Death comes to great and small

Someone died today. I won't say who. Their death is getting some buzz.

Perhaps more so in the age of the Internet, there are social commentators who seem to think they have to say something, anything, about the death of somebody who's well-known. At least well-known within their social circles. So what about that?

About 250,000 people die everyday. People die at every age, under every conceivable circumstance, although, in the age of medical science, death tends to cluster around certain causes and demographic groups.

There are thousands of politicians who were famous in their day. Movers and shakers in their day. Their policies were often malign. For the most part, no one thinks about them after the die.

There were news anchors who were household names, like Peter Jennings, John Chancellor, and Frank Reynolds whom no one thinks about.

There are singers, painters, composers, musicians, novelists, poets, playwrights, philosophers, actors, and movie directors who will always be remembered because they left behind a body of work that people continue to enjoy.

There are religious figures like Jesus, Buddha, Muhammad, Joseph Smith, Luther, Calvin, Wesley, Aquinas, &c. who have an enduring or even massive following. 

There are soldiers and statesmen whom historians continue to write about. 

There are countless Christian men and women who were godly or even saintly mothers and fathers, grandmothers and grandfathers, aunts and uncles, brothers and sisters, sons and daughters, husbands and wives, friends and mentors. Most live and die in utter obscurity. Their lives are worth eulogizing if we knew who they were. 

There are countless men and women who did nothing admirable over the course of a lifetime. They did nothing of consequence. Nothing of value. But by the same token, there's generally no point saying bad anything about them after they die since no one will think about them after they're gone. They may have said and done bad things, but they have no significant, lasting impact. Their life was a pebble in a pond. A waning ripple.  

When Bart Ehrman dies, it's worth remarking on his baleful legacy. His life and work merit a judgmental obituary. Indeed, that's true while he yet lives. But for every Ehrman there are fly-by-night celebutants whom no one thinks about once they pass from the scene. The world moves on as if they never existed. Read this a year from now and see if you still recall whose death might have occasioned the post.